In the chaos and confusion of the world we inhabit together, it is a very normal response to feel ungrounded and overwhelmed.
How do we hold our center and stay present in the midst of the roiling political, economic, and cultural storms?
For me, the earth and its beauty and serenity offer deep resources I know I can always turn to. Like the man in the picture above, connecting heart to heart with a tree immediately calms me and reminds me of the larger perspective in which this storm is a tiny piece.
Father Richard Rohr’s blog post this week offers an insightful message and a suggested practice that I would like to share with you.
Practicing the Presence at a Stoplight
Father Richard describes a moment of spiritual awakening that led to a regular practice of presence in his daily life:
The Center for Action and Contemplation is located in the South Valley of Albuquerque on a street called Five Points Road. For many years I made it my job to take care of the mail. People around the center and at the post office used to tease me by calling me the mailman. I would pick up and deliver the mail for my own little hermitage, the local Franciscans, and the Center. I just felt so useful, bringing mail back and forth. It was an obsession, really, and every day I would sit at the five-way light at the end of our road. To my Type A personality, it always seemed like an interminably long light, but one day, it seemed even longer than usual, and I clearly heard God saying to me, “Richard, are you really going to be any happier on the other side of Bridge Avenue?”
I had to wonder, “If you’re not happy on this side of Bridge Avenue, you’re not going to be happy on that side of Bridge Avenue. So why not just be happy now?” It’s that simple and that hard. It became a place for my little daily meditation. Every time I stopped at that red light, I thought, “Okay, here I get to practice it again. Everything is right here, right now. If I can’t experience God and love and myself and everything that matters on this side of Bridge Avenue, I probably won’t experience it over there.” I hope you can find your own examples.
That’s what we mean by the practice of the present moment. I cannot think of any spiritual practice which will transform our lives into love and into God more than simply trying to live in the naked now, in the sacrament of the present moment. There’s nothing to “figure out” about this practice, so don’t even try. Figuring it out isn’t really helpful. When we are an alert presence, placing one foot in front of the other, there is no separation anymore between the secular and the sacred, between ourselves and God.
May we all find our way to those opportunities for remembrance, presence, and letting go.
Love this! (Although it made me think Richard Rohr only practiced it when he got to that spot every day. Maybe it was just his daily reminder.)
I am loving the slanting, golden light of autumn. It reaches so deep into me and pulls me right out of whatever I’m doing (or thinking)!
This is so helpful! Thanks for posting!